“I’m sorry that we lost touch for so long,” Salvatore said. “It was unnecessary.”
“Your father makes a convincing argument,” Nico said in an offhand way.
Because they were blood, when Salvatore’s father, Vincenzu, became don, he naturally assumed that everyone in his family was in his family, and Nico didn’t exactly see it the same way. By then, Nico was living in Turin and making quite the name for himself on his own. Nico made one trip to Rome in the mid-nineties to try to patch things up between him and his uncle, for whom he still had much affection and respect. But the don insisted that Nico pay a very reasonable piso, a tax, just to show respect. Nico refused. Salvatore attempted to act as an intermediary, but his father was a passionate man and proud. Vincenzu declared vendetta. Nico’s life was forfeit. Of course, he was in Turin, and there was very little that could be done.
There was an opportunity to repair the relationship after Antwerp, but Nico chose a different path.
So much water.
So many bridges.
Salvatore wanted to ask his cousin why he hadn’t just accepted his father’s tithe, shown the proper respect? It was the way of things. But Salvatore restrained himself. He knew starting off on this subject would gain them no ground and may just anger Nico, make him want to leave.
“I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing,” Nico said softly and genuinely. “He was a great man.” Nico made the sign of the cross. Salvatore did the same. Salvatore admired his cousin and saw that he’d lost none of the old savviness, the cunning. With that move, he’d cleared the table.
Salvatore raised a glass and said, “Salut.” They drank quietly for a moment. “Thank you for coming. And I meant what I said, it has been too long. For that, I am sorry.” Because Nico had been imprisoned in Belgium, where Salvatore had no contacts, Salvatore didn’t know exactly when he’d been released. Nico had returned to Rome a few months ago but hadn’t attempted to make contact. That also meant that Salvatore had no idea how much Nico knew of what had transpired over the last year. The don didn’t find himself at a disadvantage often. “Have you spoken with Giulia lately?”
“No,” he said flatly. “I have not. Not since she…” Nico’s voice trailed off and let what was unsaid speak for him.
Salvatore could tell his response was loaded, but he decided not to press it. Giulia was a dangerous card to play, at any rate.
“There is a situation. An opportunity. If you help me, I’ll make you very wealthy, and you can live out the rest of your life on a boat so—”
“I’m already that rich. Or at least I should be,” Nico said, and that dark glare came into his eyes.
The don wasn’t used to being interrupted. He would forgive this slight this one time. After all, Nico had been in prison with animals for many long years. Likely, he’d forgotten his manners.
“Nico, you can lament about what was, or we can discuss what is. Vito Verrazano has your diamonds. He attempted to sell them to me and then disappeared with them. I believe to the United States. We can find them together, and I already have a buyer. I will pay you twenty million euros once I’ve sold them.”
Nico scoffed. “Twenty. They’re worth five times that, and anyway, they’re already mine. Why would I share?”
“Possession is a curious claim, wouldn’t you agree? It would seem that ownership is dictated by whoever holds them. But the other reason is that you’ve been in prison for sixteen years and any contacts you have are long gone. Where would you go? How would you sell them? What protection do you have? Where would you go that I would not find you? I’m asking you to be pragmatic, cousin.”
“Pragmatic? You invite me here to give me money, a fraction, for what is already mine and act like I should be thankful for the favor. You’re just like—”
Salvatore dropped the remnants of the smile he was feigning. For once, Nico shut his mouth before it got the better of him. Maybe he did learn something in prison after all.
“Nico, here are the facts. You pulled off one of the greatest thefts in history. But you got caught.” Salvatore shrugged. “You hid the diamonds before they got you, which was smart, and putting them in my bank took balls. I’m honestly not even mad at you for that. But if you just would have kept your fucking mouth shut, you’d have been out of jail in six years instead of sixteen.”
Bartolo’s sentence was extended several times during his incarceration, most frequently for contempt of court and lying to the judges. There was one parole violation when he, inexplicably, flew to the United States and then one later for giving an interview to an American magazine—while still behind bars—about the heist.
“So, this is what you’re going to do, Nico. This is what I’m offering. You’re going to help me get the diamonds back from Vito fucking Verrazano, and I am going to make you a rich man for it. You’re going to get a little bit less than what you would have if you tried to sell them yourself, but you and I both know there’s no one that can or would write you that check. You’re going to take this deal, or I’m going to make good on my father’s promise. This would make my favorite aunt very sad, and I don’t want to do that. Nico, I can give you twenty million euros, clean and in a bank. Money you can use immediately.” Salvatore paused and took a drink, not wanting to overplay his hand.
Bartolo flashed that million-euro smile of his, the one that always turned the ladies up. Even after all that time in prison, he still had it. “Who is your buyer?”
Salvatore shook his head in response.
“Then at least tell me what happened,” Nico said and rubbed the bridge between his eyes.
Salvatore refilled their wineglasses.
“Vito comes to me and he says he has these diamonds. He and that Burdette fellow took them from the bank when that Serbian tried to rob it. I’m not going to get into that, it was in all the papers, you can look it up.”
“I know what happened,” Nico said dryly.
“Vito tells me that he had plans for those stones, but they fell through. The lockdown prevented him from meeting with his buyer, so would I be interested. I offered him twenty-five million and his life, which he wisely accepted. Then, Vito, he disappears on me. I was very offended by this, so I did what any man of reason would do.” Salvatore shrugged again and took a drink. “I hired private detectives, I hired police, I spared no expense. Eventually, we found Vito. He has a very nice place on Lago Maggiore.”
“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?”
“Because we didn’t know he was involved until he came to me. We tracked him down, I had my men break into his place in hopes of surprising him and reminding him of our agreement, but he wasn’t there. Someone was, though. We found someone trying to break into his safe. At first, my men thought it was Vito. Like he figured out we were following him and was trying to get his diamonds out.” Salvatore nodded at this, as any man of reason would. “Unfortunately, it was not Vito, and he escaped.”
“If Jack Burdette was involved in getting the diamonds out of the bank in the first place,” Nico said, “then it was very likely Enzo Bachetti in Vito’s house.”
“We suspected that as well. If, as Vito says, his intention was to betray Burdette all along, it would seem he wouldn’t share his home address with them and it would have taken them some time to find him. Bachetti eluded us coming out of the lake district, but we picked him up when he stopped at an AutoGrill outside of Milan and followed him to Rome. He boarded a flight to Los Angeles. My men are following him now.”
“So, I fly to America and get the diamonds from Enzo and my old protégé and return here? Then you’ll pay me the twenty million?”
“Yes. We have assistance in America. There is a small Cosa Nostra presence in Los Angeles, friends of friends, and they have agreed to help. They have been able to get us weapons, cars, whatever we need. They picked up a tail on Bachetti while our people were in the air.”
“I don’t have a passport,” Nico said flatly.
Salvatore laughed. “All I have to do is take your picture.”
Nico was anxious to get to work, so he didn’t stay much longer. Though, Nico wisely thanked his cousin for his hospitality and his generosity before he departed. Salvatore was pleased by this. Nico politely finished his glass of wine and went to see Salvatore’s contact who would provide him a passport. He would be on a flight the following day. Salvatore would make contact with Constantino in Los Angeles. Then the hunt would begin. He had faith in his cousin. Nico had led the School of Turin, the notorious thievery ring. He had pulled the world’s largest diamond heist in 2003, which he’d initially gotten away with but was eventually arrested and convicted for. Salvatore was angry and impatient. He was used to lording over his world, and it had been a long time since he’d encountered a problem that he couldn’t solve through bullets, money, or some less desirable alternative. There was so much outside of his control, and that was something that Salvatore wasn’t used to.
Salvatore had a week left to find and secure the diamonds. Perhaps he could stall for ten days, but that would be pushing it. Gennady Sokolov was a “businessman” in the same way that Salvatore was. He’d become rich enough that the people who mattered no longer cared about what he’d done in his past, which, if the rumors were half-true, was enough for two lifetimes. What Salvatore knew was that Gennady had been a Soviet intelligence officer who’d gone on to become a smuggler and an arms dealer. If it could be moved illegally across national borders, Gennady Sokolov could move it and sell it. But he was also not a man to be crossed. There was a man burned alive in Albania who would attest to that.
Or, at least, he would have.
Salvatore knew about Sokolov from early dealings with Ferretti’s shipping concern, had even taken some of his cargo on a journey for him. So, when Vito approached him with the prospect of finding a buyer for his diamonds, Salvatore knew just who to speak to. Sokolov was very interested, Salvatore could tell. He feigned it, of course, that was his opener in negotiations, but Salvatore knew men and knew what motivated them. He could also read a newspaper. Sokolov, it seemed, was on the outs with his government and might be in need of funds. Salvatore might have been able to pay Vito the agreed price of twenty-five million euros, but it would have required the divestiture of significant assets, and he just didn’t have that kind of cash lying around. So, when the opportunity to acquire them for free from Vito presented itself, Salvatore thought he would enjoy a substantial profit. His fortunes reversed, and he was now back to paying for them, but better to do that than disappoint his new business partner. Nico’s little finder’s fee would be better than what he had originally offered Vito.
Sokolov agreed to purchase the diamonds from Salvatore, almost at face value, which suggested that he would be able to sell them for considerably more. Or perhaps he simply needed assets that he could move around and use irrespective of borders. Whatever the case, Salvatore had given his word and arrangements were made. And if Salvatore couldn’t deliver on time, there would be no forgiveness.
PART II
…WHEN TWO ARE DEAD
11
Rusty showed them how to track a cell phone with a handheld device, and they were able to trace Reginald to Hermosa Beach.
Rusty flew in two days after Enzo. Jack and Enzo continued their routine, meeting with many of the wholesalers in the International Jewelry Center over the last two days. Of them, Jack didn’t think any were capable of writing an eighty-million-dollar check, and it seemed like a lot of wasted effort. Still, good to eliminate them as options. Of course, the more they pulled this routine, the more he was worried that he might encounter someone that actually did have a connection with US Customs and try to verify their story. But those they talked to were more cooperative, and having Reginald’s and Vito’s aliases to share added to Jack’s and Enzo’s legitimacy as cops. Enzo didn’t agree with the strategy of closing off potential buyers, constraining them to just a handful, but Jack felt it was important to limit the number of people they interacted with in order to lower their profile and risk of exposure. Enzo’s concerns had as much to do with every time they flashed a badge, they increased the probability that they would get found out as it did with disagreeing with the actual strategy. They argued about this often between meetings, and Jack was glad to see Rusty, if for nothing else than to break up the tension.
The bug was Rusty’s idea.
It had a way of calming the nerves between Jack and Enzo because it meant they could focus on something besides impersonating cops.
Rusty arrived midday while Jack was still tied up at the winery. Jack was worried that the FBI might be watching SFO, and he couldn’t get a flight out of Sonoma County Airport that went direct to LA, so instead Jack took an airport shuttle down to San Jose and flew out of there. He didn’t arrive in Los Angeles until seven that night. While they were waiting on Jack, Rusty rented a car under whatever alias he was traveling on and picked up Enzo. They went straight to an electronics store that serviced private investigators and other security-related businesses that Rusty had scouted in advance. They picked up the GPS tracer and several recording devices. The amount of personal surveillance equipment available to the public was staggering.
The three of them met in Jack and Enzo’s rented suite at the Ritz over a room-service dinner. Jack walked them through the conversation he’d had with Special Agent Danzig that day. As he played the events of the last several days back, Jack realized that while Enzo had been stupid and careless in attempting to steal the take from Vito’s house, it didn’t materially affect their plan. Cannizzaro knew that someone else was after the stones, but that in and of itself wasn’t detrimental to the operation. Cannizzaro knew who Enzo Bachetti was, but his people did not, so Jack didn’t believe that they would be able to make the connection that the “someone else” was Jack and Enzo. That thread was tied up, at least for now, in Italy. The danger would be if Cannizzaro’s people figured out that Vito had come to California, but frankly, Jack didn’t see how that was possible. Mafia organizations in Italy were so regionalized, they just didn’t have that kind of reach. Certainly, the Sicilian Cosa Nostra once had very strong ties to American mafia families, but those days were long gone.
“This sounds off to me, Jack,” Rusty said. “It seems like Danzig and her team are working in Rome right now, if indeed they are collaborating with the Italian government. I don’t think she’d fly across country just to interview you. She sure as hell wouldn’t fly all the way here from Rome to do it. I think something is up.”
“Well, Cannizzaro doesn’t know anything about us,” Enzo said. “Jack and I only met him the one time, and that was, like, twenty-something years ago. I’m just saying that if they really do have an informant in his organization, they won’t know shit about us. It’s not like they asked me for ID when I was at Vito’s place.”
“I agree we’re protected on that front,” Jack said. “The bigger concern, in my view, is that if Danzig ever makes the connection between Reginald and Vito. If she starts looking here, we’re fucked. And Reginald is already starting to light up the board by calling all over town, trying to put a huge diamond deal together.”
“That seems pretty amateurish for him,” Rusty agreed. “I thought he was a lot savvier than that.”
“Desperate people do stupid things,” Jack said and refilled his wine.
“You don’t think this is some kind of false flag, do you? Reginald drawing all this attention?”
“I thought about it, but to what end? I mean, Andelić did that to get the authorities to focus on me and not on him. But Reginald doesn’t know we’re involved. It doesn’t seem like him to be that careless, but I can’t figure out any other reason.”
“Is it possible there’s another crew involved?” Enzo asked.
Jack shrugged. A lot could happen in ten years, and who knew what Reginald said and who he said it to while he was in prison. But that didn’t ring true for Jack. Not exactly. “It’s possible, but I d
on’t know how likely. If there is, the only thing we can do is outsmart and outmaneuver them. The thing we have to worry about is the feds.”
“I agree,” Rusty said. “Another crew might cause us some irritation, but they aren’t going to be better. The real threat is the FBI.”
“So, what do we do about them?” Enzo asked.
“For right now, nothing,” Jack said.
“What?”
“What can we do? The FBI doesn’t know we’re involved yet.”
“As far as we know,” Rusty said.
Jack held out some steadying hands to both of them. “But we also don’t have a way of finding out.” Jack looked to Rusty. “Right? If we’re going to pull this thing off, we need to do it as quickly as possible and get out. We can only worry about the variables that we can control. Our objective has to be getting the diamonds from Reginald and Vito without them knowing about it.”
“But Jack,” Enzo said, “even if we succeed, you know that we’re the first place that they’re going to look for them. And you basically live up the street. You also have something to lose. We all got pretty heated the other night, but what Rusty said was true. You can’t have it both ways. You’re either a thief or you’re not. You’re not going to walk away from what you have.”
Jack nodded and knew his friends were right. He had something to lose now, too much, in fact. He’d let his anger at Vito get the better of him for far too long. Now that he could finally see it for what it was, he saw how clouded his judgment had become.
“Enzo and I talked it out,” Rusty said. “I’m wanted, but nobody here knows who the hell I am or is even looking for me. No one knows anything about Enzo. Why don’t you let us handle this. We still need you to broker the sale, but taking risk right now is stupid. If we get caught, Enzo and I can disappear, and it’s basically just like it always was, only we can’t come to America anymore.” Rusty shrugged nonchalantly. “Reginald and Vito can both make you. Reginald has never met me in person, and it’s doubtful he’d pick up Enzo. Vito is another matter, but he probably doesn’t play that big a part in this.”
Once a Thief (Gentleman Jack Burdette Book 3) Page 11